


Lovelaciad

by White_Marker



Series: Very short short stories [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece, Alternate Universe - Historical, Atwood and Homer make a good team eh, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, The Iliad, The Odyssey - Freeform, The Penelopeiad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-04 17:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13369809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Marker/pseuds/White_Marker
Summary: A retelling of the Odyssey and the Iliad, following the story of Simon and Raphael as they are separated over a decade.Though the story doesn't belong to me, i take full responsibility for the ridiculousness of it. Chockfull of mistakes, anachronisms, genderswaps, inaccuracies, bungles, boo-boos and blunders – don’t say I didn’t warn ye!





	1. Chapter 1

Work inspired by _The Penelopiad_ by my muse Margaret Atwood – also, obviously, dam Homer himself, if he ever existed, and _The Odyssey_ and _The Iliad_.  
Seriously, though, go read Atwood. She’s a gem and genius. I borrowed from her novella, so don’t be surprised to see parallels. Simon plays Penelope, Raphael plays Odysseus.

 

 

 

 _Simon Lovelace_ – Second child of Elaine Lovelace, also known as the Faithful King Consort, for the endless attachment to the King

 

 _Raphael Santiago_ – King of Ithaca, also named the Saint King for his excessive piousness

 

 _Elaine Lovelace_ – Mother Queen, widowed and mother of two children, Simon and Rebecca

 

 _Camille Belcourt_ – Lady-in-waiting, faithful servant to Raphael

 

 _Clary Fray_ – Lady-in-waiting, charged with the task of turning away the consort’s suitors

 

 _Isabelle Lightwood_ – Commonly known as Calypso, a daughter of Atlas

 

 _Athena_ \- Greek goddess of war and wisdom, patron of Raphael

 

 _Choir_ – The maids of the palace. The royal gossipers.

 

 

  1. Their Marriage



 

 

The marriage is arranged, as most marriages are. Most of them, if they involve people from nobility, that is.

 

His soon-to-be-husband is handpicked from a cluster of men and women while Simon scrutinizes them from behind a veil. He’s not permitted to attend the choosing procession. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t catch a glimpse of his intended first! Elaine, his mother, chooses carefully, as to maximize the profits from this union. It’s not very romantic. More like attending an auction, and Simon feels like a fat goose, with the way he’s being traded for money and lands.

 

Elaine even goes to the Oracle in Delphi for advice, like all good citizens who are making life-altering decisions did these days.

 

Simon is sought after for a simple reason: his daylighter status causes much talk and envy. Elaine knows it well. Simon comes with the gift of daylight to vampires – a treasure so rare the gods bestow only to the most devout. Since she had been a child, Elaine had always been convinced of her good faith, and she had received her wish: her child, though condemned to live as a shadow of life, could now walk in daylight.

 

After a hundred days of searching and courting – to which Simon is not even privy! Ridiculous! – a candidate is chosen. Yes, the Saint King will do, Elaine has decided.

 

Although he is short and ill-tempered, he owns more land than four kingdoms put together. When Simon had fallen prey to a vampire a few years before, and Elaine had despaired for his future. But it had, in fact, opened doors, such as the Saint King’s favour: King Raphael desires nothing more than a daylighter to share the throne.

 

Raphael, his first name is. Simon interrupts his weaving and tests the name on his tongue. “Raphael.” He says it over and over. What a joke! “My Raphael!” He sniggers.

 

Elaine’s oldest child, Rebecca, has already married and has put two sons and a girl on this earth. She prays to the deities often, and spills blood from sacrifices until she’s satisfied. Elaine enjoys a good position: as a widow (rid of the authority of a partner), she is free to do as she pleases. Her goal in life is to see her two children married off into wealthy families. She has succeeded with Rebecca, now there’s only Simon left.

 

On their wedding day, the surly Saint King stares straight ahead and clamps down painfully on Simon’s wrists as the holy man binds their hands together with a flimsy piece of white ribbon.

 

Simon peers at the scene from under his veil, blinks away the sting from the charcoal streaked around his eyes – he was ‘dolled up’ for the ceremony, as the maids said (“Look at our Lovelace dolled up, so lovely,” they taunted), but he is not beautiful, couldn’t be called more than plain, and would not be known as thus by the people. Instead, they know him for his kindness, the broad smile that is an opposite of his king’s.

 

But to be known for kindness isn’t such a great thing, to be honest. People think he is a weakling. No, his kindness doesn’t interest people, but ever since he’s been blessed by the gods to roam both daylight and nighttime, all shapes and sizes had hunger after him. Simon scoffs at this. They fawn over him.

 

There is a great deal of wine and roasted meat, with a mountain of grapes. Everyone gets more or less drunk except for his husband; Raphael doesn’t seem to drink much. Instead, he listens to others’ rambling with a disapproving frown on his brow.

 

After the ceremony, Simon says with a steady voice, “Raphael.” He repeats the name, again, attempting to get used to it. Perhaps he has had a bit too much wine. A drunk, fat goose.

 

Unknown to Simon, the King catches his birth name being whispered across the room and finds his new husband in a corner of the big room. They live in a palace near the sea, where Simon whispers the names of the naiads and swims amongst the fish when he gets bored of weaving. Now he speaks other names.

 

“Raphael,” Simon whispers again, continuing to test this new future on his tongue.

 

“Yes?”

 

He turns around. “Oh. Husband.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Oh. Uh — My King.”

 

“Yes?”

 

Elaine cuts in with a crowd of attention-seekers trailing behind her – councilmen, members of the King’s clan, and old, forgotten, money-hungry cousins who have suddenly remembered they are family. She is looking to show off her baby. She calls him that,  _her baby_. Simon sincerely hopes she’ll leave aside the nickname for now.

 

“Simon!”

 

His eyes flicker across all the attendees in haste. “Mother!”

 

“Elaine,” Raphael nods dutifully, though he had hoped for no interference during his first – first! – conversation with his husband.

 

While the attention-seekers all do their best to brownnose and glorify him, Simon believes none of their praises and niceties – before his days as a daylighter, he was accustomed to avoidance and annoyance from his peers and superiors. But it was genuine, at least. Sometimes he thinks back to those days he spent in the dark as a wistful memory. Curse his mother’s prayers!

 

Simon groans when he notices his husband had once more slunk off into the shadows. They had not exchanged more than nine words.

 

A midnight wedding is all the new rage these days, with the many vampires in the kingdom, but Simon doesn’t doubt his husband is impatient to receive a drop of that god-blessed blood of his. The Saint King will soon be touched by the sun as well, Simon concludes grimly.

 

After he finishes his familial and royal duties – greeting his aunts and uncles, cousins and nieces and nephews, receiving mountains of trinkets and gold – he fulfils his marital duties.

 

As he walks away towards his new bedroom, he is followed by a waterfall of vulgar jokes and jeers. Those drunken idiots.

 

 

 

  1. Choir – A Difference of Opinion



 

 

[After the midday meal in the palace, two maids find themselves having an argument in the kitchens.]

 

Upon our faith, the king and consort

hide behind their walls! We whisper rumours

of the newlyweds, wish the plague upon them,

damn the couple aloud,

 

Fool! We do not curse or damn

We smile slyly and weave our

stories of seduction – revered Aphrodite!

by the gods, she will be pleased!

 

 

Curse Aphrodite, that she-witch,

Hera would deem this an abomination

 

Jealous beast! You are jealous!

 

Jealous?

 

Yes, jealous!

 

Pah!

I remain convinced of my right,

and we shall see how their marriage survives,

whether it hangs or wins!

 

 

 

  1. His Misfortune – Those Damn Trojans!



 

 

Raphael leaves his husband behind a month after their wedding takes place. He leaves to fight a war that has been caused by Simon’s cousin, the daft Helen of Troy. When the news had been announced to him, he could not understand the idiocy of these people.

 

Paris, nabbing Menelaus’ wife, Helen? What a moron! He knew what trouble it would cause, yet it didn’t stop him.

 

And Helen, letting herself be dragged off to Troy? What a dimwit! She knew what kind of tyrant her husband, the King of Sparta, was.

 

Raphael enjoys a few minutes of sunlight on his bare skin just outside his war tent.

 

One of his generals interrupts his peace. A letter had come to him from home. Raphael grunts and wonders how long it would take to return home. He had hardly got the chance to enjoy his marriage before he had been called to the war. Because of those idiots, Paris and Helen. Thanks guys.

 

The letter is from Camille, his second-in-command, whom he had ordered to stay home to look after Simon – though he will never own up to that fact, for his own safety. Simon did not need to be ‘looked after’.

 

The letter contains only little bits of uninteresting information about life at the palace. Simon is only mentioned once – his weaving is growing excessive.

 

Raphael closes the letter and thinks of the Trojans. How can they be defeated, with their endlessly high walls? He kneels in front of his small Athena shrine and thinks deeply. If anyone can help him, it’ll be her.

 

 

 

  1. His Suitors



 

 

Simon keeps his lips in a straight thin line underneath his veil, hoping Maureen Brown wont see his expression and take offence. She is easily provoked, this suitor. And it isn’t the first time she’s knocked on Simon’s door.

 

“Please, Consort Lovelace, consider my offer before you turn it down—,” she starts.

 

Behind him, Camille and Clary sigh wearily.

 

Simon schools his features like he has been taught to do, pulls away the veil and leans in, hoping to not disappoint the suitor, or at least to keep the drama to a minimum.

 

“I cannot, though you flatter me.”

 

“Your husband is a fool – leaving you behind like this. I would never have done such a thing, had I been in his place,” she says.

 

 _Right_ , Simon thinks with a grimace behind his veil,  _what do I say to that?_  “Mh,” is all he can manage. “Hum.”

 

He takes the coward’s way out and turns to Clary, holding out his hands.

 

She swiftly steps in and tsk’s Simon before addressing Maureen as formally as possible. The Consort was not accepting her proposal. He remains faithful to the Saint King.

 

He nodds vehemently in agreement, “I remain faithful to the king.” It would become his go-to explanation, and he would utter these six words over fifty times before he could come up with a better tactic – but more on that later.

 

 

 

  1. Choir – Two maids lamenting for the separated couple



 

 

[Excited chatter in the background. The two maids clasp their hands together and share their thoughts.]

 

How sad!

 

How deliciously sad, sister!

 

Those lovers, to be pulled apart!

 

Pulled apart! How awfully terrible!

 

Just awful! To think of the pain —

 

The pain!

 

— they suffer, longing for one another

 

How lonely!

 

How lonely, in the palace, on the battlefield

 

Amongst the blood and sweat!

 

No end to the pain!

 

The pain!

 

Oh, just imagine, can’t you just imagine?

 

I just cannot imagine! That pain—

 

Oh, the pain!

 

 

 

  1. A Letter to my Love



 

 

Dear Husband,

 

The months and years have passed slowly without you here – that much I can certainly share with you, though I would never admit it to the band of suitors right outside. The situation here grows dreary. Do you know how many there are now? I’ve counted one hundred and eight shifty little wooers. The suitors won’t stop banging on our doors. And they are  _our_ doors, are they not? They won’t stop, they are relentless! They dine like swine downstairs in the courtyard. Each night the servants have to clean up after them! The maids have started to resent me for it, but manage to frolic with the suitors, nonetheless. They’ve even set up camp right outside the palace, if you can believe it. They are still not convinced of my faith to you, and continue to pester me endlessly with empty words and lacklustre flattery.

 

Where are you? I am rather bored in our bed. I’m still astounded, by the way, that you crafted it yourself, this marital bed. I remain impressed.

 

As you continue to rage war with no end in sight, so do I continue to fend off unwanted admirers – though I suspect they don’t admire me so much as they wish to take your place and enjoy your riches. If this goes on for much longer, I will have to come up with a way to hold them off more permanently. I do not rely on your wits for this, husband, I will come up with something myself. Do not fear.

 

I remember when we last spoke words –  _spoke_ is a generous term, as your eloquence, though eloquent, is concise and sparse. I counted the words you spoke to me that first night when we were married: thirty-seven uttered words. I cannot help but think you have more to say now.

 

I remain here,

 

and yours,

 

faithfully,

 

Simon

 

 

  1. His Trick – Those Dumb Trojans!



 

Athena hears his plea in the end, and Raphael is struck by a brilliant plan.

 

It had actually been Simon’s letter that set him on the right track: flattery.

 

Those Trojans are nothing if not proud, and what better way to win this never-ceasing war than to appeal to their pride?

 

So, Raphael decide, they will fawn, they will be generous, they will appeal and flatter until they could trap those stupid Trojans – and then attack!

 

The siege is lifted and the Greeks sail away.

 

Or so the Trojans think.

 

A gift is left to them by the Greek army: a tall, wooden horse. The craftsmanship is raw yet refined, and they roll in the beast with a pleased smile on their faces. How those Greeks have come to their senses! How smart they are, to abandon hope, and accept their loss. Goodbye, Greeks! Off with you!

 

While the Trojans stand with their hands on their waist, waving goodbye to the boat out on the sea, the Greeks jump out of the wooden horse and pummel each Trojan they can find to death.

 

And so, by the cleverness of their King, they win.

 

Finally, Raphael can go home!

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

  1. The War is Over – The Journey Home



 

 

The words are spoken too soon. _Home_ , Raphael thinks to himself. It has almost become a foreign concept.

 

After that trouble with the Cyclops Polyphemus and those wretched Sirens, Raphael was still no closer to home.

 

In fact, as it was now, he finds himself on an island, Ogygia. That godsforsaken island!

 

Not only is he stuck on an island – and he cannot remember how long it has been – but he has to face a bit of Simon’s poison: an unwelcome suitor.

 

A woman named Isabelle – in these regions also known as Calypso, daughter of Atlas, that giant – chases after him, running across the rocky terrain of Ogygia in haste to get to him.

 

Her smile is made of blood red lips, and Raphael can’t but describe it as predatory. It scares the living wits out of him – and his wits he needs, because it’s the only way he can fend off her advances.

 

“Not today, I’m too tired,” he reasons.

 

“I’m ill, and you’ll get infected if you come close to me!”

 

“I am married, madam!”

 

“You’re just – you’re not my type.”

 

In the end, Isabelle tires of his excuses, and makes a prisoner out of him.

 

Bound in shackles, Raphael is not pleased. Isabelle sings for him. Her voice enchants him and he is enraptured, suddenly overwhelmed with love and lust. They fall into bed with each other.

 

Athena, having witnessed this from her golden perch on Mount Olympus, thinks this has gone one step too far. She is supposed to protect Raphael, and so she shall. He must return home to his husband.

 

“My gods,” cries Athena, “It is one thing to woo a human, but to trick them thus?” (How hypocritical of those gods, Isabelle will later say, gods do nothing but trick humans!)

 

Athena goes to her father, Zeus, to ask him for help, who sends the messenger Hermes on his way to free Raphael from Calypso’s clutches. As Zeus argues, Calypso and Raphael are not destined to be together – and shame on her, to hunt after a married man! Tsk! Let him go! Stop singing!

 

Isabelle grouches as Raphael sails away. Those infernal gods, always meddling where they are not wanted.

 

 

 

  1. Another Letter to my Love



 

 

Dear Husband,

 

According to my suitors, who despite my brilliant little weaving trick, continue to badger me with proposals, you have taken a lover!

 

I’m sure rumours have reached you too, wherever you are, and that you have heard I have taken up a lover as well – perhaps even two, or three.

 

We make quite a merry pair. Or a foursome.

 

Yours,

 

faithfully,

 

Simon

 

 

 

  1. His Suitors – The Little Weaving Trick



 

 

With a frown, Simon stares helplessly at Maia Roberts, suitor number one hundred and two. She is a fine girl, sure, even attractive and sharp-tongued. But still! Simon remains faithful, and if you think a beautiful face is enough to change his mind, think again.

 

Damn his husband! Curse him to Tartarus and back! He can rot in that abyss of torture for all Simon cares!

 

But where _is_ he, bemoans Simon, where is that damned husband? How long does it take to cross a sea and some mountains? Surely he ought to be back by now!

 

Maia watches him with a smirk on his face, not oblivious to his attraction. Damn Aphrodite!

 

But Simon has upheld his promise: he has come up with a strategy to keep the suitors at bay. Only when the weaving of his shroud is finished, he will take a suitor. Only, the suitors don’t know he undoes his day’s work every night. The shroud will never be finished! It is not a bad trick, if he says so himself.

 

Simon gestures to his weaving, the beginning of a shroud for Raphael’s deceased father, the old Laertes.

 

“As you w-well know,” he stutters, “I have made a fair deal with my suitors. I can only choose a suitor once my weaving is finished. And as you can see, it is not nearly finished.”

 

“You will reconsider,” Maia proclaims with confidence.

 

Simon coughs. “No, no, I won’t. I really won’t.”

 

Behind him, Clary shakes her head. “He really won’t,” she echoes.

 

“Nope,” Camille says, popping the _p_.

 

Maia’s face darkens and she growls. She stomps outside and plops down at one of the suitor’s tables in the courtyard, drinking some fresh beer.

 

Simon snoops from the balcony on the first floor. The band of suitors is getting rowdy.

 

 

 

  1. Choir – Their Revenge



 

 

[The maids lose their patience with the Faithful King Consort. They continue to clean up after the suitors – but take revenge and pleasure where they can. Two maids exchange words.]

 

Ugh! Another day of cleaning after admirers,

of listening to our King Consort whine

and cry for his husband across the sea.

 

Ugh, indeed! No end to his lament

A sea full of willing wooers

And he remains dried up like a virgin!

 

Ugh, oh! He deserves none of them,

whereas we—

 

Yes, _we_ —

 

_We_ , indeed, slave and toil all day,

and would happily receive a suitor, or ten

 

Or twenty!

 

Ugh! All this love at the King Consort’s feet

And he does away with them, as if they are dirt and grime

 

Ugh!

 

We will happily take his place,

if he remains a braggart!

 

That stiff-neck! That snob!

 

And our revenge shall not end there!

 

Won’t it?

 

No, it won’t!

 

It won’t!

 

No, my sister, because I spied with my eye

something treacherous and cunning!

 

Say it, sister, quickly!

 

Our Faithful King Consort, in the dead of night,

undoes her weaving to hoodwink those idiot suitors!

And thus, he will never have to choose one!

 

How treacherous and cunning!

 

Her peace is not safe for much longer!

Let us go and spread some truth!

Shed some light on the situation!

Let us tell these suitors what he is doing!

 

How evil you are!

 

I am but honest—

How can that be evil?

 

 

 

[The maids erupt into a fit of laughter, spurred on by their malice and malcontent.]

 

 

 

  1. Camille’s Susurrations



 

 

Dear Leader,

 

My letter comes with disturbing news. The falsehood your Simon has used to dodge unwelcome proposals has been uncovered! The suitors have been very angry ever since they discovered Simon unweaves his weavings each night. They are brash and boisterous, the lot of them. For years this trick has worked, but now the suitors see through it. We will have to come up with a new ruse soon, if you do not come back, for the shroud is almost finished.

 

Camille

 

 

 

  1. The Return Home



 

 

After more than a decade, Raphael stops in front of his palace.

 

He looks like a beggar: unkempt beard and filth all over his face. Simon does not recognize him and treats him as the hundred and ninth suitor, dismissing his advances.

 

Only when he claims to be the Saint King does Simon halt.

 

“You are lying.”

 

“No.”

 

Simon tests this suitor, as his shroud is nearly finished and he will have no choice but to live up to his promise and choose a suitor. It might as well be one who is deserving of him.

 

In the end, Simon starts to doubt this mysterious hobo, whose eyes _do_ rather look like those of Raphael.

 

There remains but one test.

 

“Fine,” Simon challenges. “If you’re truly my husband, then I will accept you.”

 

“Wonderful,” replies Raphael, with a hint of doubt. Surely it can’t be this easy?

 

“ _If_ , and only if you drag our marriage bed right into this room. I need a strong man, after all.”

 

Raphael huffs. “Hah! That will be impossible.”

 

“How so?”

 

“When we married, I cut our marriage bed out of the big, living olive tree in our bedroom. I can’t remove it in any way, unless you want me to cut off the tree.”

 

Simon laughs broadly. “Husband! Finally!”

 

“Yes.”

 

Simon stands up to embrace his long-lost husband, but before he can take two steps and fall into his arms, Raphael holds up his hands.

 

“Wait. First we must take tie up some loose ends. Camille has kept me updated on everything.”

 

Simon had not known this. He looked behind him, where Camille gives him a self-satisfied smirk. “Really?”

 

“Yes.”

 

And that is how the treacherous handmaids are punished for their betrayal. The instigator, who readily and proudly admits it was her idea to betray Simon, is hanged.

 

The suitors are sent away, some with more force than others – some, refusing to drown out their huge egos, only accept to a duel. Raphael rids the world of these feeble men and women.

 

Others, who are more level-headed, accept their loss. They gripe and grouse and grumble, complaining, “What a spectacular waste of time! I could’ve born ten sons in all this time!”

 

And with this, their Odyssey ends. The Saint King and his Faithfull King Consort wisely rule the kingdom with a gentle hand and stern laws. They are widely known for their story, for the Consort’s faithfulness, and the King’s perseverance for finding his way back home.

 

 

 

  1. Choir – End of Days



 

 

[The maid having spread the word about Simon’s weaving plot, now about to be hanged and hungry for vengeance, speaks to another maid.]

 

I call to Hecate, goddess of necromancy,

let me live to plot my avengement—

 

            Give it up, sister!

Can’t you see we’ve lost?

 

I call to Hecate, goddess of sorcery,

curse the King and his Consort

 

Give it _up_ , sister!

You are about to die, ask for forgiveness!

 

Never! Let that bitch suffer, Hecate!

 

My goodness

 

Let him suffer, Nemesis, goddess of revenge!

 

This is getting ridiculous.

 

[another maid chimes in] Truly embarrassing

 

Divine retribution for those who cause pain!

Nemesis, daughter of Justice, dark-faced goddess,

Do your worst, your absolute worst,

Drag them to Tartaros!

Kill these sons of bitches for me!

 

 

Oh, for gods’ sake.

 

[And all lived happily ever after, except for the maid]

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehehehhehehe

**Author's Note:**

> Gods, y'all, i just don't know what i did here. Chapter two will be up shortly.


End file.
